It was all over. Everything was slowly coming to an end. And Loki knew it. Unfortunately, he also knew that even his fabled silver tongue couldn't get him out of the inevitable pain and torture he would undoubtedly face.
He, Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief and Lies, was staring into the eyes of death. And there was nothing he could do to tear his gaze away.
Even as his tacticians' mind raced, attempting to find a solution, he knew, in his dark, icy heart, that all hope was long lost.
If the Alfather doesn't kill me, then Thanos surely will, he thought to himself, as his "older brother", Thor Odinson, drug him through the streets of Asgard.
He was pretty sure Thor had purposely done this to him. I had been embarrassing enough to have to stand there in front of those damned Avengers, chained up and muzzled like a criminal. But now this! He was a king, not a criminal! To have the multitudes of Asgardian men, women, and children, staring at him as he was humiliatingly escorted to